


just another tuesday

by Ren (FahRENheit2006)



Series: just friends (sure, whatever you want) [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday, Birthday Presents, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Gap Filler, Just Friends, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FahRENheit2006/pseuds/Ren
Summary: It’s shaping up to be another uneventful, forgotten birthday for Waverly Earp. Purgatory is nothing if not consistent in that regard. Because why hope for anything more after 22 years?Except someone did remember this time. And she went out of her way to make it special for her favorite Earp.





	just another tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> Some canon timeline fuckery has to occur to make this work (since all the Wynonna Earp season one shit clearly happens in winter, like September to December). So let’s say Wynonna shows up in the summer or so to give Nicole and Waverly the chance to cross paths a few (dozen) times. Which would also make Wynonna’s 27th Earp Heir birthday earlier in the year too.
> 
> Pre-relationship WayHaught celebrating Waverly’s birthday. I dunno, I think it kind of makes it more sweet as a Friend Gesture than as a More Than Friends thing.

Waverly Earp angrily scrubbed the counter of Shorty’s bar, desperate to work away the pinpricks of heat lurking in her eyes. It was so frustrating. She was **fine** a minute ago. Just another day at work, the same lunch rush, the same familiar faces… It was fine.

_Same old, same old._

She scrubbed harder, thinking of her stupid sister Wynonna and stupid Deputy Marshall Dolls off in the woods doing God Knows What with some stupid Revenants (without Waverly). They’d been gone since yesterday with barely more than a “don’t wait up” and a spin of Peacemaker. 

Just another Tuesday in Purgatory.

Except it wasn’t another stupid Tuesday in stupid Purgatory.

It was just another **disappointing** Tuesday in Purgatory. Because why wouldn’t it be?

_No one had remembered. Again._

Her birthday. Her Goddamn birthday was today and no one had remembered.

Story of Waverly’s life.

She’d tried a few different tactics over the years. Junior high was spent befriending Chrissy Nedley and Stephanie Jones and dropping unsubtle hints. At least then she’d get a trip to the city or a pizza party out of it when they forgot. 

High school had been full of unaffected nonchalance. She was too busy and popular to make a big deal out of her birthday. That had backfired because then everyone almost had **permission** to forget.

Three years of dating Champ Hardy after that had been an exercise in futility. He at least had the decency to pretend to be sorry when he forgot, and her rage on the matter guaranteed a nice dinner and new shoes.

But now? At the ripe old age of 22? Waverly was just single and tired. Tired of trying. Sure, it made her perpetually upset the entire day. Especially since she was setting herself for a test that everyone around her had perfected failing with years of practice. The small, petty glee from confirming her worst fears quickly gave way to hollow, aching disappointment.

Waverly very much hated— **hated** —being proven right all the time.

She was past the point of tantrums at Champ or sad looks at a very tired Gus. And she couldn’t even get mad at Wynonna who was off trying to save the world. There was no outlet for her anger or sadness so it just sat in her gut, festering quietly.

A low, familiar voice off to Waverly’s right made her jump. “I think you’re gonna start a fire on that counter from rubbing so hard.”

Officer Nicole Haught stood sheepishly at the entrance, white hat in one hand. She held up another hand in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Waverly smiled and tossed the towel into the laundry hamper below the bar. “It’s fine. And at least then I’d get the rest of the day off.”

The other woman nodded, her face half-scrunched in consideration. “True, but only cuz you’d be in lock-up. Something something arson something insurance fraud.”

A light, slightly bitter laugh from Waverly. “Right.” She made a mock-scowl before shaking a theatric fist. “You darn cops are always one step ahead of me.”

Nicole’s answering breath of a laugh accompanied a wide, dimpled smile. She slid into the barstool closest to Waverly, Stetson placed on the counter. A crumpled $5 appeared from a breast pocket. “Still serving coffee? 

Waving off the cash, Waverly nodded and bounced over to the coffee pot. She scrutinized the small collection of mugs until she found one that met her very high standards for this particular customer before pouring.

The distraction was welcome. Waverly had briefly forgotten that hollow feeling in her chest and found herself smiling.

Waverly checked the dangling watch on her wrist before passing over the steaming mug along with a few packets of sugar (the bowl of one-hit creamers following close behind). “Isn’t it kind of early for coffee? Or kind of late?”

“Late,” Nicole gruffly confirmed as she assembled a pair of sugars and creamers into her mug. There were deep circles under the woman’s eyes and her normally tight French braid was loose in places at the back. “Just got off night shift. Running on fumes. You’re my last hope of making it home instead of sleeping in my cruiser.” She nodded her thanks and inched the crumpled fiver closer to Waverly again.

“Anything exciting happen?” Waverly asked, still ignoring the payment.

The woman took a long, deep sip of the (now medium-brown) coffee. Nicole made a satisfied sighing noise before opening her eyes and smiling back at Waverly. “Caught a punk this morning, red-handed. Vandalizing cars. So very, very high school.”

“Thank you for keeping our streets safe from these monsters,” Waverly replied solemnly with a wink.

Nicole stiffened, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know they showed no remorse. The world is a safer place now.”

“I believe it.” It was meant to be sarcastic, but Waverly found she meant it genuinely.

The Officer noticed and smiled back. “How are you on this beautiful afternoon in Purgatory?”

Waverly had to suppress a scowl. How **quickly** that all came back. “Fine. Just another Tuesday.” She went back to wiping down the stack of glasses fresh from the dishwasher. 

A moment of silence passed before the clink of the coffee mug on the counter. “Is it?” Nicole asked seriously. 

“Is it what?”

“Just another Tuesday?”

The patient, serious way Nicole phrased that question… it made Waverly’s chest ache. She was so very tired of holding it all in all the time. Here was someone actually **asking** for once.

Waverly spun on her heel and started to open her mouth, but hesitated. Nicole just sat on her barstool, mug in hand, peering back at her with focus. It was… **nice**.

Instead, Waverly closed her mouth with a sigh. She didn’t want to ruin it. She didn’t want to explode all over this nice friend who was just being nice. She didn’t want Nicole’s pity. She didn’t want Nicole to see her cry. She didn’t want to look like the child she felt she was in front of Nicole. She wanted Nicole to think she was— 

**What?**

Waverly bit her lip to cut off that train of thought and went back to the glasses. She managed to lie with only a small strain in her voice. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Waverly returned automatically, her mask of politeness slipping into place. Part of her hated putting up that particular wall around Nicole, who was obviously trying to be nice. But Waverly just didn’t have the energy to get into it right now.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Nicole sat in companionable silence with Waverly, her coffee only taking a few minutes to consume. Waverly was worried she’d be irritated, but the woman’s presence was surprisingly calming. Nicole didn’t try to fill the void with chitchat. She just tapped at her phone and allowed Waverly the space to continue her busywork.

It was getting harder and harder for Waverly to stay silent. Her resolve was weakening with each clean glass she tucked back into the cabinet. Just as Waverly was approaching her breaking point, she heard the scraping of a barstool. 

Sweeping her Stetson onto her head, Nicole pushed the coffee mug back towards Waverly. An obvious coaster of a $5 bill was tucked underneath it. She waved her phone at Waverly. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll send you some Snapchats of the trick I taught Calamity Jane, yea?”

“CJ wearing your hat is **not** a trick, Nicole…” Waverly trailed off in mock-warning but she nodded. She found she loved trading pictures with Nicole. Even about the stupidest shit. It was nice.

“It is when you know how long it takes her to sit still with the damn thing on, Waves.” Nicole smiled warmly as she tucked the phone into a back pocket. She tilted her hat at Waverly in salute. “Have a wonderful Tuesday, Waverly Earp.” There was a pause and it looked like Nicole wanted to say something more.

But at Waverly’s curious head-tilt, the moment passed and Nicole only turned on her heel.

And just like every time Nicole Haught left Shorty’s, Waverly found herself sighing. She didn’t know why she did that, like Waverly had to let out all the air in her lungs. It didn’t make sense.

And despite Nicole’s brief visit… Waverly found she felt a little better. The work of getting Shorty’s flipped for the evening went by surprisingly quickly. Why, Waverly even managed to not remember her birthday every other minute.

Just every other **other** minute. 

* * *

Around sundown, Aunt Gus patted Waverly’s shoulder. “Knock off, girl. It’s not gonna be busy and you should go enjoy yourself.” 

“But—" 

“No ‘buts.’ I can take care of things here. Get going.” Another pat as Gus pulled the apron off Waverly’s waist. Gus pressed a kiss to her niece’s temple and whispered a soft “Happy birthday.”

That almost did Waverly in. Gus had been withdrawn since Uncle Curtis had died. And growing up, she’d never been very sentimental about things like birthdays. It was… nice. It made a good heat come to Waverly’s eyes, but she held it together with a “thank you.”

As Waverly spun her keys on her finger and headed for the brightly lit alley, something stopped her. Something was different.

Her red Jeep, parked behind Gus’s truck, seemed darker somehow. Like there was someone inside it. Moving. As Waverly maneuvered around the black truck, a laugh strangled out of her throat. She had to cover her mouth as a few tears escaped down her cheeks.

The familiar Jeep was covered in white soapy polish. A big “22” on the hood, a “BIRTHDAY GIRL” over the passenger side windshield plus the sides and back had “HAPPY BIRTHDAY WAVERLY” all over in bubble letters. Whoever this was had the foresight not to cover the driver’s side windshield or side window for safety.

Inside the Jeep itself were those dark shadows from earlier. Though when Waverly approached, she could see those shadows were balloons. Her car was filled to the brim with multicolored balloons, mostly purples, reds and oranges (her favorite colors). When she opened the door, a fair number of them squeaked loudly before escaping into the bright sky.                                

Sticking her hand in, her arm was buried to the elbow in latex balloons (though a few silvery mylar balloons were sprinkled in with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and “22”). Her entire car smelled of fresh latex, a very bitter scent. But Waverly didn’t care. It was… **more** than nice…

A giddy feeling struck Waverly’s chest, replacing the hollow one almost in a rush. It was… all she’d ever wanted. Just for someone to **notice** …

_Who **did** this?_

It took some effort (and a few lost balloons) for Waverly to work her way into the car and still be able to see the road. Sacrifices had to be made, but more than a few balloons survived and bounced into each other in the back seat. Inside the passenger seat was a large piñata of a red dragon along with a small envelope and a large brown envelope. The small envelope had “open me first” in a neat script.

_Hmmm… That writing is… familiar…_

A cheesy birthday card with a cat in a party hat read “Happy Birthday! You’re Purr-fect!” It was just as terrible as Waverly had ever hoped for. She thumbed open the card to find a short, handwritten note:

“Dear Waverly,

If you’re reading this, it means I managed to keep a straight face (but had to lie through my teeth). Sorry about that.

I didn’t know what to get you (without being super obvious) so I stuck with a few things I think you’ll like. The big envelope is from Gus, the piñata is from me. I would have left you a baseball bat too, but something tells me you’re a girl who has a big stick for hitting things with on her own.

I hope you have a good one, Waverly Earp. You’re amazing and the best part of Purgatory to me.

 Celebrating you,

\- Nicole”

  _The envelope was from Gus?_

Hefting the flat package, Waverly felt a stiff, small weight. She ripped off the pull tab and slid out a large picture frame. A normal letter envelope with a sticky note fluttered out along with the picture frame.

The black and white framed photograph showed Shorty’s, probably taken a few years ago. Featured were Shorty, Curtis and Gus along with Waverly smiling out front. Around the edges were signatures of regular patrons. Sloppy and rough “happy birthdays” lined the image margin.

_But… none of them said anything. They just ate their lunches and left. Did they know?_

A sticky note, again in Nicole’s neat script, said “I had to sic Nedley on the Shorty’s lunch crowd to get them to sign this after they left the bar. They were also sworn to secrecy. Apparently, he also shook them down for extra tips, too. I neither condone nor deny this behavior.”

Poking a finger into the white letter envelope, Waverly was shocked to find a neat stack of cash (mostly $5s and $1s, but a few $10s and at least one $20). 

She couldn’t take it anymore. Waverly opened up Snapchat to send Nicole a message, though she briefly hesitated about waking the woman up after she’d been up all night.

_She did this on purpose._

Smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, Waverly tapped out: [“You did all this?”]

There was a short wait before a response. [“I have no idea what you are referring to. I am at home. With my cat.”]

Shortly after, a picture of a ginger cat wearing Nicole’s white Stetson while socked feet could be seen at the bottom of the frame. Waverly chuckled. 

It took a few seconds of thinking before something clicked about their earlier conversation.

Chewing her cheek, Waverly’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she typed. [“Or… wait, was this the car vandal you were talking about?”] She pulled back to send a photo of her Jeep.

[“Oh yea, that punk was out of control. You should be glad she’s off the streets.”]

[“She, huh?”]

[“Yes”]

A series of Snapchats suddenly streamed into Waverly’s phone, all selfies of a certain Purgatory Sheriff’s Deputy.

The first was Nicole standing in front of Waverly’s Jeep with a cup of coffee in hand. Her Stetson along with a several bags of balloons, a couple of grocery bags, the dragon piñata, and a small cylinder of helium rested on the car hood.

The next showed Nicole holding Waverly’s car keys with the caption [“Don’t be mad, Gus let me have them. I promise I won’t hurt your baby!”] Her brown eyes were wide with guilt as she bit her lower lip.

Another showed Nicole blowing up balloons and cramming them into the Jeep. Then one of her sitting in the Jeep making a silly, horrified face while surrounded by balloons. The last was of Nicole holding the dragon piñata like a baby in Waverly’s passenger seat.

[“See? She was a criminal mastermind. She had to be detained.”]

Waverly replied with a small giggle. [“Truly a mad genius”]

[“Did you crack the piñata yet?”]

[“I was gonna do that when I got home.”] Though the thought of the long drive back to the Homestead made Waverly impatient... Almost irrationally impatient, like if she didn’t know what this surprise was she might burst.

[“Good. Drive safe. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”]

[“You gonna be up?”]

[“I’ll wait”]

Waverly hurried home, her foot heavy on the gas. She couldn’t stop smiling, and her face around her cheeks and eyes were starting to ache from the effort. Occasionally there were tears, too. It was **better** than nice.

The Homestead was empty and quiet, her big sister still on a mission. An earlier text from Wynonna just read “Happy birthday, babygirl. Left you some of that shit pizza you like in the fridge. When I get back, we are going to the city. I missed your big 2-1 pub crawl and we have lost time to make up.”

Finding the pizza, Waverly tucked a piece into her mouth while carrying the piñata, the picture and some of the balloons that said “22” (for her scrapbook) upstairs. Inside her room, Waverly grabbed her metal softball bat from the corner. She picked up the piñata to shake it. There was something large inside, but also the shuffling of a bunch of small things. _What could it be?_

It took about 4 solid whacks ( _very satisfying_ ) to break open the dragon. A font of candy and paper spilled out, as did a large roll of something soft.

The spread of candy included little Caramilks, a couple of smooshed Coffee Crisps, and a few Cadbury chocolates (all her favorites). The unfamiliar candies in with the rest included individually wrapped cherry cordials and a sour candy she’d never heard of. She wondered if they were Nicole’s favorites. She wondered how Nicole knew **her** favorites.

Larger than the candy, there were also unopened packs of her favorite post-it notes she used for research. And sprinkled among the small candies were clippings of her name in the Purgatory Gazette: cheerleading successes, academic honors mentions, her Nicest Person in Purgatory photo at the Chamber of Commerce…

The large item curled in a soft roll was a t-shirt that said “Class of 2015” from the online college she’d been studying language and history. Waverly hadn’t had an official graduation, just a certificate she’d printed herself. But this felt… real. Like she hadn’t just been playing at going to college, but that she had something to really show for it.

It was just… **so nice**.

She hugged the t-shirt to her chest, though she spied a few water droplets darkening the fabric. Tears had started to stream down Waverly’s cheeks. From her sitting position on the floor, Waverly extracted her phone to send Nicole a Snapchat of the murdered piñata.

Almost an immediate response from Nicole. [“You killed it! Hope it felt good”]

[“It was all amazing… thank you so much”]

[“Sorry if some of that came off creepy. I just didn’t know if anyone had ever put your report card on the fridge, so to speak, to make a big deal of all the awesome stuff you’ve done and how hard you work.”]

That gave Waverly pause.

_No. Not really. Especially not when Daddy was alive or Momma was there. Gus and Curtis were always so tired and unsentimental. Wonderful people, just not the type to dwell on the past._

Waverly tapped out a few winking emojis. [“Just a little creepy. But I guess it’s public record and all. Cop domain. …just stay off my Facebook and Instagram.”]

[“Yes, ma’am”]

Waverly found herself looking at the pictures of Nicole messing with her car again, that big smile returning. A nagging thought crept in.

[“When did your shift really end?”]

A very long pause.

[“……10AM.”]

Lines of motherly concern crossed Waverly’s face. [“Nicole! You worked a 12 hour shift then stuck around to do all this?! For me?”] Her eyes darted up to her own phone clock. 8PM. _Almost a full 24 hours awake for Nicole._

[“That’s why we have coffee, Waves. Push ourselves to the max.”]

Waverly chewed her lower lip.

Nicole quickly tapped out a followup. [“So what’s the verdict: surprises good or surprises bad? I know how much you like to plan things.”]

[“Surprises good”] She surprised herself at how quickly she responded. Especially since she usually hated surprises. Champ’s were terrible, Gus had no patience for them, and Wynonna was one never-ending surprise that Waverly couldn’t plan a second around.

A long pause found Waverly’s thumbs hovering over the keypad. She would start to write something then immediately regret it and delete.

Nicole chimed in. [“I’m gonna go to sleep. Keep dozing off with my phone on my face. But next year, Waverly: we’ll do something you pick. Sound good?”]

[“That sounds amazing”]

[“Good night, Waverly Earp. Happy 22nd birthday. I hope it wasn’t just another Tuesday.”]

 _Indeed_.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be some typos and grammar issues. I was falling asleep writing this but wanted to get it up before the 8th ended. Wrote this all between 8PM and midnight... zZzZzzZZZ


End file.
